


The List

by Rattrina



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Aftercare, Bloodplay, Ice Play, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27940805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rattrina/pseuds/Rattrina
Summary: Sometimes I write poems to idea build, explore atmospheres and themes. Since it is part of the thought process for the exchange piece, I gift it to you.
Relationships: Hypnos/Thanatos (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2
Collections: Hades Rural Dionysia Exchange





	The List

**Author's Note:**

  * For [purple_bookcover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_bookcover/gifts).



Come find me through hall, chamber, corridors and files.  
Follow the endless reel of my list for miles.  
In the periphery is a psychedelic flash of red,  
Beyond the periphery; eyes hung with dread.  
So come find me any time of day:  
Morning, evening or matinee.  
If Death is truly inescapable,  
You should be capable. 

You are stalked by a feathery quill  
You turn but your surroundings are still.  
A crumble of paper, rustle of branch  
Beware the fall of the eyelids' avalanche.  
With my lips I undress your eyes.  
Enchantments to beguile and hypnotize.  
Dream of love and dream of leisure,  
As poison ink scrolls my pleasure.  
Poison sinks deep into skin  
Until there is only ink within. 

Lust is the thief who steals away;  
Rationale, reason, my mind's affray.  
I am obedient to my list of desire.  
I vow to appease the loin's burning fire.  
Death come find me!  
You will dream my ungainly silhouette eventually.  
Passion grows to feast upon the frozen blood inside you.  
The silent temptation that Death accrue.  
I feel the urge, the growing need  
To fill you with my sleeper's seed.  
But first my list I must complete.  
Priorities entwine and compete.  
I know what I must do;  
I will make a list out of you.

A knife will cut the writer's vision.  
Words made of deep incision.  
My scroll is flesh shade pallor mortis  
The spikes of pain won't be amiss.  
Goosebumps, hair erect and stillness of trepidation,  
Are the sensations caused by my depravation.  
Places where light fears to tread,  
The darkness of my 'deathbed'.

Decorative borders I must create.  
From kisses that I spate.  
Just a little tenderness before the pain.  
Just a little pleasure before the strain.  
Task numbers are written with shards of ice.  
Shiver for me, indulge my vice.  
Your skin turns from grey to blue.  
Hold your breath as I manipulate you.  
Now it is time for the final task.  
A little blood is all I ask.

Bite your lip, harden your resolve and endure,  
As I use my bladed quill to bore  
Slight slits for wine to trickle  
Your heart is racing but you are not brickle.  
Words are written and will dry and scar.  
Now care and comfort will be added to my repertoire.  
Hug and kiss until you feel better.  
Clean and soothe each wounded letter.  
Wrap you in my arms to combat the cold.  
Release you from lusts' stranglehold.  
I whisper my affection in your ear,  
Secrets only you can hear.  
Upon the list, written in every line;  
A thousand ways to make you mine.


End file.
